Mischievous Faeries
by Scyrie
Summary: "The faeries want us to kiss…" Norway said slowly. Iceland widened his eyes- the faeries wanted them to kiss?


Iceland absent-mindedly stared up at the ceiling, his lilac eyes dull as usual. Also as usual, his face was clean of any expression other than boredom. Although, he was glad Norway wasn't giving him a lecture on being nicer to the faeries he couldn't see.

As though the older of the two knew he was being thought of, Norway walked over to his brother, tilting his head at the stretched-out-across-the-couch position. Blinking curiously, he sat on the arm of the couch, just sort of watching Iceland. Who was, in vain, trying to not notice Norway. It's not that he hated his blonde brother; he just got a bit excessive with his faeries.

But after a little while, he couldn't help it and looked in the blonde's direction. Something rather odd happened. He made eye contact. But it was broken in seconds as Norway looked away, blushing a light pink.

"Ravus…" Norway began, and Iceland very quietly groaned. Not the faerie _again_…! "…he says you didn't step on him today…" the blonde finished.

Slowly sitting up, Iceland crossed his legs and blushed the same light pink as his brother. That could almost be taken as praise, coming from the cold Nordic. "Oh…" Iceland responded, thinking of the right words to say. "That's good…"

Unfortunately, Norway clearly hadn't heard him, as he was blushing darker, and quietly whispering to a faerie. Maybe even a troll that time from the way Norway was trying to push it, though gently, away.

After a few moments of discussion with the whatever-it-was, Norway turned to Iceland, his blush still rather dark. "The faeries want us to kiss…" he said slowly. Iceland widened his eyes- the _faeries_ wanted them to kiss? He instantly noticed Norway slipping off the arm of the couch, slowly moving towards him.

Looking down and away shyly, Iceland hid a dark blush and scooted a little closer to Norway as well. "Okay…" he muttered.

He squeaked as Norway put a hand on his cheek, ever so slowly moving even closer. Did the faeries really want them to kiss? Or was it Norway just thinking of an excuse? Iceland shivered as his lips met his brother's, which compared to his own were fairly cold. Gently kissing back, Iceland's blush faded, his eyelids lowering peacefully.

They must have remained that way for a while, Iceland figured, because when his brother pulled away, his breath was a bit uneven. Maybe it was just because of nerves? He wasn't certain, but he didn't let Norway pull too far away, keeping their lips, at most, a millimeter away from each other. His eyes slid closed as he softly inhaled; Norway smelled like a crisp winter breeze. As Iceland's tongue flicked across his own lips, he shuddered, the cold of his lips was almost unbelievable.

"Well…?" Norway asked, jolting Iceland out of his thoughts.

"Well what?" the younger of the two queried.

Norway, to Iceland's dismay, pulled away at the question. Sadly, the blonde looked down, and Iceland immediately knew he'd offended the other. "…was it that bad…?" he asked, his voice barely audible.

"…no," Iceland said.

Norway directed his gaze back to his brother's, and he blushed with a small nod. "So it was good…?" he questioned.

This time the one to break the eye contact, Iceland hesitantly nodded. "Yes…" he responded.

His lavender eyes widened as his lips were once more pressed to the blonde's frigid, yet somehow warm ones. The touch was gossamer, but Iceland didn't exactly mind, his eyes fluttering shut serenely. Shyly, he returned the kiss, his heart pounding so loudly against his chest he was afraid that Norway would hear it.

Norway's hands made their way up to Iceland's shoulder, and he pushed the younger Nordic gently onto his back on the couch. Kissing him a bit more roughly, he straddled his brother, blushing again.

Iceland placed his hands on Norway's shoulders, for lack of knowledge of what to do them, tilting his head into the kiss. Slowly, he began multiplying the kisses, so he could breathe in between them, Norway's fingers lovingly lacing through his silvery hair.

For a long time, Norway kissed back, and then he finally pulled away, staring down at Iceland. As Iceland opened his eyes, they widened again. The blonde's eyes had a strange quality in them he'd never seen before. Hate? No, it was something completely different than loathing.

Love.

"I love you…" Iceland decided to say, staring back up at Norway, reflecting the emotion in his brother's sapphire eyes. His lips gradually moved into a small smile as he ran his fingers through Norway's downy-soft hair.

Just barely smiling back, Norway nodded in agreement, not quite sure if he'd be able to manage to get out "I love you". Iceland understood him even without the words- the blonde's eyes said enough on their own. Delicately, he wrapped his arms around his older brother's shoulders, pulling him back down for another kiss, as if sealing their affection.


End file.
